A Day In the Life
by georgesgurl117
Summary: It's a normal morning for Captain Donald Cragen at the 16th Precinct. ONESHOT. Please read & review! rated stronger just in case


**Disclaimer: **I do not own them, as you can tell by the fact they are still on the air, they get work done, and Cragen has not died of a stress-induced heart attack or stroke.

** A/N: **Just a little onesho**t **that wouldn't let me continue on with the next chapter of _Shadows _until I put it into motion. As always, please review!

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**A Day in the Life**

"Alright, people. We've got a new case!" Captain Donald Cragen walked through the squad room doors. On cue, a familiar voice began:

"In the criminal justice system, sexually-based offenses are considered especially---"

"Oh for Pete's sake! Ted, will you cut that out?!? Do you have to say it EVERY time we get a new case?" Cragen turned to the tall man seated at the tiniest desk possible squeezed in the very corner of the room.

"Yes, I do, if you don't mind!" Ted responded, bristling.

Cragen sighed. "Well I do mind. It's darn right annoying! Would you just knock it off?"

"Annoying?!?" Ted cried out. "But it's my only line! You don't let me do anything else around here. I don't get to solve cases, or interrogate people, or do paperwork, or fetch coffee. I don't even get to carry a gun! This is all I have. Well, this and the doink-doink."

"Ah! The doink-doink! Another thing I might live without." Cragen rolled his eyes.

Ted stood up from his tiny desk, his feathers ruffled. "Dare you insult the doink-doink? Ach!"

Cragen looked up at the man towering above him. "Fine. Keep the damn things. But on one condition."

Ted sat back down. "Oh yeah, what's that?"

Cragen smiled. "Just what is that doink-doink?"

Ted's eyes flared angrily. "NEVER! Never shall I reveal the doink-doink!"

"Fine, fine. Just make it snappy."

The man continued his introduction as Cragen turned away. _I think I see why we don't give him a gun. The man's an absolute loon!_

Cragen handed a file to Detective Olivia Benson, seated at her desk. "Where's your partner? I know he's here." Cragen gestured around to the papers strewn violently across the floor and the overturned chair. His eyes shifted to Elliot's desk, currently mashed and mangled with dents. _Wow, he really did a number on that one today, didn't he? _

Olivia looked up at the Captain. "I don't know, but I think I'm in love with him! Wait...no I'm not. That's ridiculous! But then...oh lord, I don't know! Am I? Or am I not? It's so hard. I can't decide! Maybe I'm in love with Alex instead! Who knows? I obviously don't. Could be I'm in love with you! Why is it so hard? I just don't know!"

Cragen's eyes widened. Attempting to ignore the situation, he pivoted around to the other side of the aisle. He posed the previous question to Detective Munch.

"Ah...our hot-headed fellow with the fists of fury stormed out for an emergency Anger Management meeting after spilling coffee upon himself and then subsequently beating the hell out of his desk as it so was at fault in a blatant attempt to decaffeinate our so-tormented colleague. Which obviously was only successful due to the fact that the piece of furniture used for seating, the so-called 'chair,' if you will, was also in cahoots with the aforementioned desk. Which obviously means..." Munch continued on endlessly linking the furniture conspiracy to cell phone signals, wire-tapping, the CIA, and sprinkled donuts. It was only when Elliot marched back into the room, that Munch halted his rant to mutter a mere, "Oh...gee, he's back.." before continuing on and ultimately falling over and frothing at the mouth due to lack of oxygen.

Cragen shook off the trance-like hold Munch's theories had held on him. "Ah, Elliot! Just the man I was looking for. Could I have a word with you?"

It was too late, however. Elliot had tripped on his own shoelace and had set off on another rage. He ripped his shoe from his foot and sent it sailing into the row of lockers. Elliot soon followed his beloved loafer, tearing into the lockers like a man possessed. The heavy-metal lockers, knowing not what to do, bent and crinkled like a pop can.

Cragen stood helpless as Elliot's fists grew weary of the lockers and moved on in search of new prey.

"Man...that boy's gotta learn to chill..."

Cragen turned around, surprised by Fin's voice. The surprise was short-lived as his eyes narrowed sharply at the white-powdered residue on Fin's desk. "DETECTIVE TUTUOLA! WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS THAT?!?"

Fin calmly glanced down to where Cragen pointed. "Oh, that. That's nothin'. Mistah Fury threw his donut at me this mornin'.

Oh...okay, good." Cragen sighed, relieved. Relieved, that is, until he saw the smoke rising from Fin's hand. "Fin...just tell me one thing, okay?"

" 'Kay."

"Please tell me there wasn't an evidence tag on that."

"No problem, Cap'n. I got it myself."

Cragen nodded. "Okay...well, that's better I suppose." The sound of metal screeching brought him to focus his attention elsewhere. "ELLIOT! You stay the hell away from that Air Conditioning Unit! In fact, you know what? Why don't you go outside and take a little breather, okay? Just go outside. Go outside. NOW!

Elliot finally followed orders, knocking papers from desks as he went along.

Cragen breathed an air of relief. He looked around assessing the damage. _Well, I guess it was time to redecorate anyway. But I should definitely rethink the whole let-Elliot-have-gun decision._

A loud crunch, followed by the screaming of a car alarm confirmed that Elliot was indeed outside. Cragen shook his head and looked back over at Olivia, wondering how she'd managed nearly a decade with the man. _Barely_, he thought. Tears were streaming down her face as she was emotionally working her self up. She hadn't even opened the file yet. After several minutes of weeping and hysterics of what seemed to be an emotional break-down, Olivia Benson stood up suddenly, sending her chair skating across the floor. She slammed the file down on her desk and shouted, "GOD DAMN IT! I need to shoot something!"

With that, she spun on her heels and left the squad room. Cragen grimaced as if in pain. _Okay, maybe I should rethink the whole let-the-squad-have-guns decision._

A shuffling sound drew Cragen's attention. Munch had regained consciousness, and astonishingly enough hadn't even lost his train of thought. He picked up his rant right where he left off while still sitting on the floor.

Cragen looked over to Fin, who was way beyond calm. His extreme coolness unnerved Cragen more than any of the others.

He stepped towards the comfort of his office. All of a sudden, that familiar sound echoed through the building. Whirling around, he saw Ted quickly shoving something back in his desk drawer. _Almost!_ He gave Ted a quick, sharp glance. Satisfied that the Doink-Doink was a one-performance-only today, he closed his office door behind himself. He padded over towards his desk, flopping into his chair. He rested his head on his hands in defeat. _No wonder I'm a recovering-alcoholic with a bottle of Scotch in my bottom desk drawer._

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_A/N: _Okay...you've read it, so review please!! I'll love you forever! 3 


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